


Second Chances and Second Guesses

by anarchy_at12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchy_at12/pseuds/anarchy_at12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean only wants what he (thinks) he can't have.</p>
<p>A.K.A six stories about the hopeless mess that is the relationship between Dean and Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances and Second Guesses

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place in season 9, though not all of it strictly follows the original story. also loosely based off of the song Ghost by Sky Ferreira. enjoy :)

Gathering nerve, Dean contemplated whether or not sending Cas away would be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

Dean walked past Sam and Kevin, nodding to them as normally as he could considering that he was shaking like he just got caught by the cops. He had chewed a hole into his lip. By the time he was sitting next to Cas, Cas' lips parted as he waited to hear what Dean had to say.

Dean still was just so unused to it, the way Castiel's posture was laxed, the way his face molded into so many different expressions now that he was human, and no matter how amazing it was, it was still heart breaking. _Not as heart breaking as kicking him out_ , his thoughts popped in, shaking him out of his daydream. He cleared his throat and looked at Cas, avoiding his eyes.

"Listen Cas," Dean started shakily. _Don't do it don't do it I can't do it I have to do it_. "You can't stay." 

He felt the ex-angel's eyes on him, burning holes into him. Dean looked at the floor and tried to suppress the guilt as he heard Cas stumble over words in uncertainty and disbelief. Dean didn't blame him. He didn't want to believe it either. 

"But, but why?" Castiel prodded. Dean looked at his lips as they formed the words, keeping his gaze on them instead of making eye contact.

"I'm sorry," Dean replied, looking for a moment as the other man's eyes and then back down to his lips. He heard Cas exhale and saw him lean in. Dean felt the hair on his neck stand up and his breath catch. 

"Dean," Castiel breathed, as if he were sorry. He could feel Cas' breath on him, their faces inches apart even though Dean had his cheek turned to him now. He pursed his lips and swallowed his words. 

When Cas leaned back and walked away, Dean lost it. He stood up and walked as fastly as he could to him room, tears falling steadily down his face. he slammed the door behind him and shouted at nothing, at himself, and at what he did, breaking his knuckles against the wall before letting himself fall to the floor. 

_What the hell am I doing?_

****

When Cas called and mentioned about getting his grace back, Dean's stomach knotted.

He never explained this to anyone because he knew they'd look at him weird and ask him the obvious, "wait, I thought you wanted him to be an angel?" Which was true, and that's exactly it. Dean was ecstatic that he had gotten his grace back, but he knew how much trouble that meant. Cas was back on the map. Cas was back on the "wanted" signs. Cas needed to be protected. Dean wasn't sure he could. Dean didn't want to take the risk of trying to help and only hurting. Castiel was the last person, save Sam of course, that he wanted to hurt. 

That was when Dean found out that they were doomed; because no matter how hard Dean tried, he finally accepted that he was a monster. 

****

Dean felt like a 14 year old girl, sneaking Cas into the bunker. And as they sat cross legged on Dean's bed, talking about, well, nothing really, Dean realized how much he'd missed just being around Cas. 

"So, how have you been?" Cas asked, looking at Dean with soft eyes and a smile.

"I'm good, y'know. Same old same old." 

"Dean."

Dean blinked at Cas, swallowing his spit and trying to take his tongue down with it. He hated conversations like these. They made him feel not-so like him.

"I..." he tried to start, not knowing where he should even begin. His emotional baggage was more like a landfill. "I mean, I've been better, but there's only so much you can expect when your brother isn't your brother anymore and the fate of Heaven and Hell is balancing on your shoulders."

"I wish you wouldn't sass me," Cas joked. That was one benefit of Cas having experience as a human; he somewhat knew how to joke.

Silence filled the space between them. 

"The fate," Cas continued, seriously now, "of Heaven and Hell is not on your shoulders. You don't need to hold yourself responsible for that."

"Well, who else is gonna take action?" Dean replied. "And the fate of Hell is too on my shoulders, or rather my fucking wrist." Castiel inhaled sharply. "Especially since the only thing anyone is doing is making clubs just to combat the other ones. It's like elementary school all over again."

"Listen Dean, what I'm saying is that you can't keep blaming yourself for everything bad that happens. What happened with Sam, Kevin, Crowley... It's not your fault Dean. Sometimes it's no ones fault, and taking blows for thing you have not done should not be your default mode."

"Well then what am I supposed to do? Let Sammy blame himself for Kevin? And, all that shit with Abaddon and Crowley, at least half of it is my fault or at least I could have-"

"Dean. You have. To stop this."

A sob escaped from Dean's ribs. Castiel pursed his lips together, wishing he could help, but he knew better. He knew Dean would just tell him to back off.

"I can't Cas, I just can't," Dean hissed out. "I just... I just hate myself. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-" Cas tugged Dean into his arms, the angle awkward and slightly uncomfortable but Dean's hands still gripped onto Cas like he would die if he didn't, and Cas wrapped his arms around the man tight as if to keep him together.

To stop him from breaking.

Dean sobbed into Castiel's shoulder, letting out shards of apologies, nothings, and everythings, and when Cas asked Dean how he was, he never expected to get this much out of him. But now he was getting everything because everything was too much for Dean to keep in, and Castiel knew that there was nothing wrong with that. 

"I just hate myself so goddamn much."

"I know."

After Dean had calmed down and Cas had shed his coat, they sort of just sat there. All the words Dean had let escape were still in the air, and it was stuffy and humid from it. Everything that had to be said had been said. After a while though, Cas cleared his throat and said, "I suppose I should get going, you need sleep and Sam can't-"

"You could stay," Dean interrupted, "just until morning, you could stay."

"But wouldn't he notice, wouldn't it mess with-"

He interrupted again, "No, I want you to stay."

So Cas stayed with Dean through the night, Dean's back to Castiel's stomcah, Cas' arms around Dean's waist as he fell rhythmically into sleep. When Cas was sure he was asleep, he planted a kiss behind his ear and closed his eyes.

****

"Do you want anything?" Dean asked as he grabbed a cold one from the fridge. He already knew the answer of course, but it never hurt to ask. 

"No thank you, I'm good."

Typical.

Cas continued, "Dean, I don't mean to prod, but you seem a little, uh... on edge recently."

_Great_ , Dean thought. _Someone else on my damn case about the goddamn Mark of Cain_.

"Really? How so?" he said, sarcastically, "because honestly, I feel dandy as a daffodil."

"I'm not trying to invoke you, Dean, I want to make sure you're okay. I just don't want you to get out of control."

"Ahh, that's why you're worried. Poor little Dean can't control himself huh?" He put his beer down on the counter and walked towards Cas, sandwiching him between himself and the counter. "Because I assure you," he continued, pressing in close, face close to Castiel's, "that I am in control."

"Dean, I wasn't saying that-" Cas was caught off guard by rough hands gripping his arse and hoisting him up, setting him down on the counter with a thud and then moving to grip his wrists and pin them against the cabinet above his head.

"No, I know exactly what you're saying. But I think I'm very in control at the moment, wouldn't you say?" Cas breathed in sharply at the feeling of Dean's thumb rubbing him through his jeans. " _Huh, Cas!?_ "

"Yes, sir," Cas said meekly. Dean let go of his wrists and left the room. That was when Castiel knew they were doomed. 

****

Cas was underneath Dean as they cuddled on the couch, something Cas was morbidly inexperienced at and Dean was happy to teach. Besides, Sammy was out for a grocery trip and wouldn't be back for at least a couple hours.

"Dean, I don't think we should really be doing this," Cas said after flinching at the sound of the air conditioner jutting on.

"Relax, we're fine," Dean said, leaning his head back to look him in the eyes, an innocent smile across his face. Cas sighed and willed himself to relax, shifting around a bit so he could comfortably put his arm around Dean enough that he began to trace circles underneath the hem of Dean's shirt.

"Can i tell you a secret?" Dean asked.

"I don't know Dean, i thought you had a thing against 'chick-flick' moments as you called them and this seams like it's going to be one," Cas said sarcastically, making the two of them giggle against eachother.

"Shut up," Dean said, reaching an arm up to gently slap Cas' cheek. "But seriously."

"Of course."

"When I was a kid, you know, a normal kid, before all the hunter stuff started... Most of the kids I knew had their whole life planned out: where they wanted to live, where they wanted to go, and what they wanted to be. But I'm not a kid anymore and I still don't know any of that stuff. I don't even know who I am right now."

"You're Dean Winchester, Dean. You're a legacy."

"Well, I know my name, it's not that, it's just. I wish I knew where I was supposed to be."

"Don't be silly," Cas assured him. "This is exactly where you're supposed to be." Dean knew he meant in the bunker or being a hunter, but he couldn't help but think he was meant to be in Cas' arms.

Castiel spoke up after a few moments of silence, "can I tell you a secret too? It's sorta about you, so I figured you might wanna know."

Dean was confused, but gave him the go ahead.

"I never sleep."

"...I know, that's no secret."

"That's not the secret. You remember how I was trained to kill you a while back?"

"Yeah, how could I forget."

"It's that when I was human and I had to sleep, I had all these nightmares. Now dreaming I expected, but every night for weeks I would have these horribly vivid nightmares of killing you, just like all those horrible tests, just over and over again, but it wasn't... It wasn't quick deaths, it wasn't all just stab and go, I would be torturing you mercilessly and I wasn't able to stop it. I'd wake up every night screaming and sobbing for you."

"...Cas. Cas, why didn't you call me?"

"I thought about it. I didn't want to be a bother."

Dean sat up and flipped around so that he was sitting on Cas' lap, facing him. Dean put his hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Cas, if you ever need me, hell if you ever even want to talk to me, you can call me. Even if I can't answer right then, I'll call you back or something, okay man?" Cas nodded. Dean held the collar of Castiel's trench coat between his thumb and pulled Cas in gently until their lips just grazed eachothers. Cas moved his hands to Dean's hips, pulling him closer against him, lips pressed firmly and close. Dean cupped Cas' jaw, brushing his knuckles against his cheekbones before pulling his lips off and looking him in the eyes again, and in that moment, there were a million "I love you"s in the spit stil on their tongues.

****

Laying on the age-old mattress in his room within the bunker, Dean stared at the black static where the ceiling would be. The clock on his nightstand said 4:27 am, but his head said timeless. The only feelings he had were the numb kind, the lack of feeling that made you want to rip out your veins or smash your head against a wall until you actually felt something robust, something real, something credible. Rolling over onto his side, he figured it was a good thing he was sane, because if not he'd probably be doing that right now.

_You fight monsters for a living_ , Dean thought to himself. _Of course you're not sane_

He punched the pillow and pushed his head back into it, grimacing as the grainy and aching in his neck. After a few more minutes of staring at nothing and contemplating himself, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes before leaving his room to the kitchen.

He dragged his feet there and half-heartedly prayed for sleep, or comfort or something, and after chasing three tablets of ibuprofen and a couple melatonin with tap water, he leaned against the counter and wondered where his life was going. After all he'd seen and after all he'd done, he always wondered what the point of it all was. He always told himself he was doing God's work, but now, with Heaven being a lost cause or busted birdcage, he doubted there was even a God that cared. And then with Hell going up in flames and the cat fight going on between Crowley and Abaddon, it was hard to tell what bastards needed to be killed first. Priorities were disassembled and so unorganized that even thinking about it made his head spin. Making decisions was damn near impossible, and Dean put it on himself to make them all. 

Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, he trudged towards the tables in the library. He sat down, the wooden chair cold against his bare back. He pulled his thighs to his chest and swished the liquid around in the can, resting his chin on the soft fabric of the sweatpants covering his knees. He set the can down on the table without taking a sit. It seemed pointless. He stared off into space again, wishing he had some company, but Sammy needed his sleep and Ghost Kevin was with his mom. And Cas? Well, God knows where he is. Or maybe not. Whatever.

Still, the thought of calling Cas scratched at his mind like a fly, and even though Dean kept swatting it away, it always came back. 

Dean dug his palms into his eyes until he saw stars and looked around, double-checking to make sure no one would hear him talking to air, or talking to someone who wasn't there. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He didn't know what to say. He scratched his temple and tried to dig up something, but anything he came up with he thought sounded too mushy or just downright pathetic. He sighed. _Screw it_.

"Cas," he started roughly. "Cas, it's me, Dean. Um, I'm just... I'm just kindof lonely, yknow. Wanted someone to talk to." 

Silence.

"Listen, I'm not expecting you to answer me or to come here, but I miss you like hell, I really do. I don't expect anything from you, Cas, but, i mean... It's been weeks and not a peep from you, and I know I've never treated you like I should've and I know I'm always too pussy to say what I need to say but dammit, I..." He cut himself off and tried to gather himself, swallowing whatever tenseness that was gathering in his throat and behind his eyes. He felt hs pills kicking in and now he just wanted to go to bed. He just wanted to go to bed and curl up in his blankets and forget all of this, everything. 

"It's just that i miss you," he continued, hushed, "and I think I might need you." 

Hundreds of miles away, Castiel whispered that he needed him too.


End file.
